When the stars go blue
by aChickNamedHamlet
Summary: A canadian girl in a magical boarding school in England...well, really, how well can that turn out?When midget, prankster,music fanatic,star quidditch beater and all around phenomenon Eddy Jones is forced to attend Hogwarts, everything changes. EVERYTHING
1. Daddy Dearest and the Tall Guy

The air is hot and humid, the same as the blazing red waves of anger in my mind. The kitchen floor seems like fiery coals against my feet as I angle my fury away from them so as not to run before shouting my father out.

"I REFUSE—ABSOLUTELY _REFUSE_—TO GO TO THAT CRACK-POT COUNTRY!" I scream.

My father may tower over me but my anger is equivalent to the size of a full grown troll and I see with satisfaction that his shoulders are in a defensive stance. As they should be.

"Now Editha,"—

Oh no he di'in! "Don't _call _me that!"

--"It is a perfectly respectable country, and I have been assured that the school is of equal quality to your school here—if not better!" he said in a cheery voice. I wanted to slap that grin off his face and use it to clean out the toilet bowl.

"Are you kidding me? Seriously, you are a joke. There is NO WAY that any school is better than Junisize Wreck. They probably all sit there saying Abra Kadabra and whatnot while drinking their stupid tea."

I had been assured many times that English people drink tea like normal people breathe air. They even have this thing about pinkies. Anyways, I have _seen_ pictures of the queen. For Gods' sake, she's sitting there looking demanding and stuffy on the back of every single fricken penny that makes up the sixty three cents in my piggy bank. I refuse to be in a country where coffee has been upped one by tea where I could potentially be knocked out by a rogue little finger or where the people are lead by someone who looks like she's had something unpleasant stuffed up her nose.

Or very well where people have a queen at all. I am perfectly happy with my Prime Minister what's-his-face over there; he's doing great for our country. Well...I think. Seeing as I have never once watched the news in my life I may, by chance, be mistaken.

"No. They are just like you Editha darling. They practice the same wizardry; they are in the same standard wizarding world as you are. And not everyone in England likes tea, that's very stereotypical of you."

"MY NAME IS EDDY," I say through clenched teeth, "The English can shove my stereotypes up their pasty asses—or as they so eloquently put it, 'arses'—and no, there is no place in the world that can match up to the witch and wizardry level of Junisize Wreck. I'm not looking for standard here old man. I'm looking for above and beyond, and I've got it."

"Enough of this Editha. You are going to England. You will stay with your aunt Gertrude over the summers and you will attend Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. Most importantly, you will go without another word in objection, and for your previous insolence you will go to your room. I will hear no more of this."

It's robot dad again. Everything is in a straight line, black and white, and there is nothing you can do or say against him. It didn't always used to be like this, but when mom left robot dad came. He used to be nice and funny and sarcastic. And then mom left and he became robot dad. He can't even _look_ at me anymore because he just remembers mom. I look like dad, but I'm my mom's girl through and through. He's even sending me to a different country, a different _continent_ just because of my personality and how much it resembles her.

It would make me sad for Dad that he feels this way, but then I remember the _different continent_ part and I get over it. And into a whole new degree of rage I didn't even know I possessed.

"Mom would have _never_ sent me away." I said before turning—whipping him in the face with my loose hair—and running up the stairs.

Before slamming the door I yelled down to him, "THE NAME'S EDDY."

--/\--

"Get up. Get up! GET UP _NOW_!"

"Get out of my room!"

My voice is hoarse and scratchy, but I manage to scream at my father anyways. The sun is blindingly coming out of nowhere. It should be illegal to have a sun this early. I didn't even know the sun _existed_ before twelve o'clock.

"GET UP!" My father is stomping around my room throwing things into my Junisize Wreck suitcases while muttering things about why I insisted on unpacking everything. He kicked many of my important possessions out of the way. When he kicked my fine black leather CD carrying case, one of a kind, I had to draw the line.

"NO YOU DIDN'T JUST DO THAT!? BUT YOU DID, SEE I THOUGHT YOU DID. GET OUT. GET OUT! YOU HORRIBLE, HORRIBLE BASTARD GET OUT OF MY ROOM!"

I didn't even wait for him to protest. I got myself out of bed, the morning air hitting me like that of freezing polar ice winds, and used my strong, quidditch honed upper arms to push him out of my room. I slammed the door in his face and locked it. I quickly ran over to the suitcase to check if anything was damaged.

While my father pounded and screamed on the door I checked that every single CD was perfectly cushioned in their holders. I opened up the cases delicately and checked for scratches or cracks. Once I was satisfied with the state of my CDs I zipped it up and ran my hand delicately over the brilliant leather material, feeling the slight ridges of concert stickers that had been stuck onto it. Finally, when I was completely 100 sure that my most valuable possession was intact I unlocked the door again.

Dad started to say something but I cut him off, "You are damn lucky you didn't hurt any of my CDs otherwise many bad things would happen to you consecutively with no mercy on my part."

I know, I know. Nobody is supposed to order their fathers around, but my music is past a certain line. My father would be lucky to even _hear_ any one of my CDs, let alone touch one of them. This was a major offence.

Father figure grumbled something incomprehensible and continued gathering my stuff.

I cross my arms, "I'm not going you know. There is nothing on earth you can do that will make me."

"Yes," father figure grunted as he lifted one of my heavy suitcases into a sitting position, "you are. There is no way I can handle you on your own. You have gotten yourself into trouble one too many times. I am done, _done_ with cleaning up after all of your messes."

"I haven't even done anything that bad!"

"Editha, you beat up somebody a year younger than you,"

"Eddy and he had it coming! He insulted the Flammen Quidditch side. And that's a lot coming from him, he's a Notharian! We've schooled him since he learned how to fly. Not to mention he tried hexing Lexa in the hall. Right in front of me! What am I, blind? I had to do _something_."

"And when you set fire to the common rooms,"

"Accident!"

"Impersonated somebody else and revealed personal secrets across the school,"

"I was simply practicing how to make a polyjuice potion and since it worked I thought I would try it out, give it a test run if you will."

"Snuck off campus and set snap bombs through Gwidon,"

"Friendly wake up call."

"Back talked your teachers multiple times in class,"

"Excuse me; have you seen the work load? It's like child labour in there."

"Dropped five large bags of tickling sand on the main entrance way,"

"There is nothing more rewarding than the sound of a child's laughter."

"Let loose all of the Magical Creatures from your Care for Magical Creatures class and let them run amuck across school grounds and even inside the school,"

"I'm an animal rights activist. They shouldn't be locked up like that, I saw Free Willy."

"Terrorised the younger students in your section,"

"Terrorised? Is that what they've been telling you? I am on very good terms with the first years. They help me test my schemes before I do them."

"There you go Editha!" Father figure threw his hands up in exasperation, "You just said it. 'Your schemes' are what are getting you sent to Hogwarts. I have had enough of 'your schemes' they are just too much for me. I am not getting younger and I cannot handle you anymore. You could have stopped when I warned you, but you didn't, and now you are going to England, whether you like it or not!

"Eddy." I said weakly.

I just couldn't find my way around it anymore. There were no more loop holes. I was going to the land of tea and crumpets.

Yippee!

Sarcasm people don't get excited.

--/\--

I was wearing a simple black off the shoulder top, jeans and chunky black kicks. I actually got the kicks from the muggle boys' section. The girls' were much too small for my wide spread toes and annoyingly enough they didn't have just plain black sturdy sneakers. No, I don't want the one with pink stripes going down the side. No, I'm just not that much of a polka-dot person, but thanks for your help anyways.

The only thing that was even remotely noticeable about me was my beige, black and blue poor boy cap. It's a necessity. Eel gave it to me first year; I've been wearing it even since. The hat is now dirty, worn and has a small rip in the corner where the flap starts to reach out. On the inside is Eels name in huge letters with the words 'So you'll always think about me,' and then in significantly smaller letters was my name, also written by Eel, with the caption 'So you'll never forget about you.' The hat means a whole lot to me. Not only is it extremely comfortable but that hat has seen me through my best and my worst. It's been there so that I can pull the front over my eyes, it's been there to keep the rain out of my eyes in quidditch, it's been there through every single one of my "schemes", and has made it out of every single one of them with me.

And its gunna be there as all the scheming I've ever done backfires on me. Its gunna take me right through this and everything's gunna be okay. It always is when I have my poor boy cap.

I almost laugh out loud. It was so horrible and morbid because I'm _not_. There is no way out of this one. _No Way_. I'm stuck like a fat boy to cake. A dog to a fire hydrant. Bad luck to me. I'm stuck as stuck can be.

"Editha—"

"Eddy"

"Your flight is here."

I looked up from my shoes, which I had been examining remorsefully in detail for what seems like forever. Maybe it was forever. I've lost count now.

I realized that the ladies at the gate had been calling me up a few times, and father figure was decent enough to realize it was wrong to yell at people in public places.

I got up, bringing the one carry-on I had with me (the rest had gone to the luggage spin around machine thing) and started walking dream-like slow to the gate counter and the annoyed looking ladies at the gates.

"Editha—"Can't he just take the hint and run with it?

"Eddy."

"You could walk a little faster you know,"

"I could."

Father figure was getting angry now. His temper was always so close to tapering. Like a crazy robot through and through I always say. The point is that at least I can leave knowing that I still know how to push his buttons.

"Well this is it Editha,"

I ball up my fists and spit through clenched teeth, "ED.DY."

"I'll see you soon I guess."

Father figure looks around uncomfortably. I don't help him out. Let him suffer. What do I care? I look him straight in the eye and don't say anything.

"Well... Good-bye then Editha. I...I love you."

I walk to the gates, completely ignoring him. That's nice that he loves me. Nice in a sickeningly phony sort of way. The feeling isn't mutual.

Just as I am about to go down a ramp sort thing and out of his view, I put a hand up lazily in a good-by-wave sort thing and say coldly, "Name's Eddy."

--/\--

King's Cross station is big stuffed and noisy. People jostle me left right and center as I try to find my position.

If you are wondering why I am at this noisy confusing place instead of my aunt's, it is because my father had ordered a cab driver to take me straight to King's cross instead of going to Aunt Gertrude's. I would be seeing her in the summer, so as to inconvenience her for the shortest time possible.

The station is filled with lots of fast moving muggles on cell phones or in suits all on their way from somewhere or to somewhere or with someone or to do 'lunch'. It's always such an oddity thinking of muggles. I wonder how they even survive that way. How could they keep living without magic? I barely make it through summers without it, and they have to go their whole lives. It's pitiful I suppose and I should feel quite sorry for them, but really I'm just glad I'm not them. They're so clueless.

I am pushing two carts each loaded with suitcases. My father believes they are filled with clothes, and he should because a) he packed them and b) I enchanted them so it looked like clothes. Truly, in most of these suitcases are almost every item you can find in Helena's Shop of Magical Oddities and Useful Trickery on Gone Street in Gwidon, the magical town not too far from Junisize Wreck. Just so you know the Wreck is a short form for Wreckretory, which in my anatomy of words Junisize professors say, means Insane or out of the ordinary, which is true. Junisize is not like any other school, even other Wizarding schools. Anyways, when it comes down to be packing my suitcases for home I take all of my important weapons of mass destruction and transfigure them into a whole set of clothes. Poor clueless father figure hasn't clued into the fact that they give you uniforms at school.

At Junisize Wreck the Uniforms are of comfy black cargo pants or sweat pants, depending on what you ordered, and either a collared black blouse with short sleeves and your house symbol in the corner or a long sleeved black shirt with your house animal in house colours across the stomach and back. You are also given a wonderful long black cloak and you are allowed to add accessories to your uniforms so long as they're within reason. By "Reason" I mean my friend Jess had to change when she had her thong kept riding up and you could completely see it pretty much every which way she moved. Also no chains. Not ever since what happened to the first year in Steedmore...enough said.

And I guess since I've mentioned it a few times I should elaborate about the houses. There are four houses in Junisize Wreck. Steedmore, whose colours are brown and dark green and whose animal is a deep brown stallion. Steedmore's are usually the ones who make good friends. They are good listeners, but they're not quiet, they are outgoing actually. Honestly Steedmore's are altogether friendly people. Then there are Soarbans, whose animals is an owl and whose colours are sky blue and mellow yellow. Soarbans are insufferable. They have to know everything. When they don't get what they want they go berserk. They are all and all perfectionists, which annoys me to no end. Some of them are okay; it depends who you're looking at. After that are the most despised group of them all. Notharians. They are horrible! They're animal is a sea monster and to tell you the honest to goodness truth, they are monsters. They are extremely annoying. They just want every single thing and think that they own everybody. It gets on my nerves. And then there is Flammen. Our animal symbol is a tiger. Flammen's are daring and brave and work through it all for what needs to be done. Our colours are gold and red. We rule, enough said.

Somebody bumps me from behind.

"Hey. Watch it!" I hear somebody call.

I look up in time to see a head of shocking silvery blond disappearing into the crowd.

"Loser," I mutter to myself.

I look down at my ticket. It's for the Hogwarts Express. I'm supposed to go to platform nine and three quarters. I don't know about you, but there is no such thing as a platform nine and three quarters. In my old school you would just have to go into some transportation soup and you'd end up outside the gates of the school. They give you three cans of transportation soup at the end of each year. Obviously nobody introduced this concept to the British folk.

I see platform nine and I see platform ten. There are large white sticky outy numbers that alert me that these are platforms nine and ten, just in case I'm completely retarded. In between is a bricked barrier. I sit staring at the barrier as if I expect it to do an exciting trick.

"Jump barrier, good boy, sit, stay, roll over" I say to no one in particular.

From somewhere behind me a voice asks, "Excuse me?"

I turn around. A tall boy with dark brown hair and hazel eyes is looking at me in an are-you-okay kind of way, which I suppose is fair because I had just been commanding a solid brick wall to do doggy tricks.

I shrug. "You know, just talking to the wall. You have a problem?" I ask, tilting my head a bit to keep his eyes in view. He was really tall. That and my cap is pulled down quite a bit.

"Nope. None at all. I was just wondering if you were planning on getting onto the platform. You are blocking the way." He said pointing behind him to where I saw a man with messy black hair, bright green eyes and glasses, a woman with fiery red hair, a little girl who must be their daughter for she looked just like the woman, another tall boy with black messy hair like his fathers and bright almost toxic looking green eyes. They were all looking at me. Some with agitation (little girl) or some who were openly giving me the once over (tall kid). And then the twice over. Three times. I am feeling very uncomfortable.

I look at the barrier again trying to put two and thirty seven together and coming up blank. I pull my cap down a bit farther so nobody can see my grey eyes or my cheeks, just in case they give away my embarrassment.

"I have absolutely no clue what you are talking about," I say strongly and surely, hiding my confusion and humiliation.

The boy was obviously shocked "What? Have you never been to platform nine and three quarters or what?"

"Well, I was hoping it wouldn't be that obvious, you know. Blend in or whatever but yup, you got me. Never been here before in my life."

"Oh."

I felt very ashamed and stupid. I should know this stuff. _Thanks father figure. I blame you. Tall guy number one must think I am such a loser. It's probably the easiest thing ever, getting onto platform nine and three quarters. It's probably right in front of me and tall boy one and his family are thinking I'm a total idiot. Great going Eddy! _

Despite the thoughts going through my head, I keep my voice and my face completely void. It's one of the many benefits of being Eddy Jones. I don't show emotions. I don't show weakness. If you weren't my friend you wouldn't know I had either of those.

"Well, take your trolley and head straight at the wall," Tall boy one says slowly as if explaining what one plus one is to a rowdy two year old, " If you don't go through it's because you're nervous, so run a bit first if you think you're gunna choke. 'Kay?"

I nod my head as if this makes perfect sense. Then I stand unmoving in the same position.

"Um...did you hear me?" Tall boy asks.

"Yeah...but I have two trolleys. I can't run with them both. Losing control is inevitable."

"Oh...Well, I'll just take this one," Tall boy reaches for the trolley I am handling with my right hand. I hold on tight to it. It has my CDs on it. "Or not..."

"Sorry," I say looking up again so Tall Boy can tell I am being sincere, "But that one has my music on it. Could you just take this one?" I point to the other trolley.

"Oh, yeah, sure." Tall Boy says 'yeah' weird. He says it like theirs an 'r' at the end. "Yeahr". English people and their strange accents.

He takes my other trolley and we face the barrier. Tall Boy casually, me like you would face the man who had murdered your best friend.

"One..." Tall Boy says. I find it strange calling him Tall Boy in my head. He should have a name. People in England have names right. _Mentally slap self. Of course people in England have names! They're not another species. Just think of them as Canadians with OCD for tea and a lisp. Mentally slap self again. A lisp that turns their h's to r's?_

"Wait. Do you have a name?" I ask, rather stupidly in my opinion.

"Yeah," _yeahr_, "Does it matter?"

"Well, I am trusting you with a) my luggage and b) my consciousness if I were to run into a solid wall."

"True. My name's Albus Potter. What's your name?" Albus says sticking out a hand to shake.

"The name's Eddy. Just Eddy," I look down at his hand. I grab it in a brief shake, "White man," then wrap my thumb around his and clash palms, "Black man," pull my hand back and do the spider man sign, "Spider man," curl my fingers into a fist and bump his still extended hand, "Superman."

Albus looks at me like I've truly lost my mind and then says with a slightly crooked smile, "You are the _strangest_ person I have ever met Just Eddy."

"Why thank you Albus Potter."

We turn and face the wall.

"One...Two...Three!" We run at the wall and promptly disappear.


	2. First sight of the mad house

"Surprisingly enough, I wasn't expecting this," my voice is hard to hear over the sounds of people talking and laughing, owls toads and cats, people shouting across the platform to their friends or waving good-bye to their parents, and the large red train which is blowing smoke across the whole scene.

Albus laughs. "Most first years aren't."

"Uh...first year?" I ask.

"Well...yeah," Albus says with a slightly puzzled expression, "You're starting you're first year at Hogwarts, right?"

"Me? _No_!" I exclaim.

"What?"

"I'm in my fifth year," I say in a _No Duh!_ way.

"What? Really? That's impossible."

"Huhuh, no," I lift my cap off my head entirely for the first time so he can actually see my face, "Do I look like a first year to you?"

Albus is shocked into silence. I rearrange my side pony and blow some stray hairs out of my face before replacing the hat on to my head.

"S...I'm Sorry. You're just so small...and you didn't really know you're way around...I just thought you were a first year who was a bit on the tall side." Albus blushed.

I cocked my eyebrows. "_Small?_"

"Well...not _small_...you know...just a little...shorter than the average height...not that you aren't average I mean you're very average... _above_ average even...but you're just a little shorter than most people in fifth year would be,"

This kid wasn't doing great in my books. He's one to talk, he's a giant! He must be at least four or five inches taller than me. No wonder I looked small to him. In my opinion I am _not_ small. I am of normal height.

I frown and crinkle my nose.

"Look, don't be offended. Being a Shorty isn't anything to worry about," he laughs, "not at Hogwarts anyways. You'll have a lot of other things to watch out for."

_SHORTY?? UGH! mentally stamps foot and marches around blowing fire out of nose I WILL NOT BE CALLED "SHORTY"!_

"Nuh-uh bud. You did _not_ just call me Shorty," I glare up at him, "But you did. You see, I thought you did. Well I can't exactly say this has been a pleasant experience but sayonara buster."

I stomp aimlessly into the smoke in the direction of the train. Then, realizing that Albus still has my other cart, I double back.

And to my great misfortune he is no longer there. How did that happen? I look around my direct vicinity. Nope. No uber tall people around here. Well...actually, Albus' brother is standing a few feet from me. Looking at me. He has got to stop doing that.

I walk over to him.

"Uh...excuse me...you're Albus' brother, right?" I ask.

"Yeah. James Potter at your service." He brushes his hand through his hair and leans back giving a lazy smile as if waiting for me to faint at his presence. _Egomaniac_.

"Um, did you see where your brother went? He was just standing right behind me."

"Oh," James says, "Him."

I don't like this kid already. He spoke as if his brother was the bane of his existence. And I could tell he thought I should be more impressed by him. I can already tell how full of himself he is. Probably stands admiring himself in the mirror in his spare time. Also, he obviously thinks everybody else is lesser than him just because he's him. I can tell because so far he's been having a conversation with my jean-clad legs.

"Yeah...I think he went off somewhere that way," he points lazily in the direction of a nearby wall, "So...you're new I here I guess."

"Uh...yes, yes I am. How did you know that?" I asked. Albus had mistaken me for a first year, so how had I made a different and more sensical impression on this dufus?

"Oh, I was listening to you talk to my brother," he said without shame. _That_ explains it!

"You know it's rude to eavesdrop."

"Yeah...your point?"

My temper was starting to fizz a little. "Look, your brother took off with my stuff so can you either help me find him or tell me where to go to get to somebody who can."

"Just come with me on to the train. My brother will have put it with the other luggage. It will be in your dormitory when you get to school."

"Oh...well in that case I suppose I could probably get on to the train myself. I don't need your assistance."

"But wouldn't it be nice to have the company? It looks to me like me and my brother are the only ones you know at this school and having just moved in fifth year...it could be difficult to even find a compartment for you." He said with what I easily detected as fake concern.

The idiot was trying to use the popularity card on me. He must think I am desperate for friends and would be utterly humiliated if I had no one to sit with. To the contrary, I would probably be glad to be just left well alone for the rest of eternity. It is tough trying to pretend to be civil to people all the time. It would be so much easier to be a loner. And as Lexa always said, 'Loners get more ice cream.'

I felt a pang of sadness at the thought of Lexa. I missed her and her silliness. I'm thinking of the time she told me that saying.

"What?" I had asked.

"You heard me. Loners get more ice cream." Lexa said with a grin.

"How do you work that out?"

"If you're a loner you don't have any friends you need to share your ice cream with. It's a you win some you lose some sitiation,"

Eel and I had looked at her as if she were insane. Then again, that's how we always looked at her so there wasn't much of a fuss to be made. After a few moments Eel started to chuckle at Lexa. After a while we were all cracking up. It was so stupid it was funny.

_Good times, good times_, I thought.

Out loud I said, "No,'s okay. I'll be fine on my own."

"No," James said, "I insist."

"Look, I don't want to go sit with you. I'll be fine on my own."

James looked completely POd. He obviously wasn't used to people telling him no. Well, now he knows me. He's gunna have to get used to it because for as long as I am still in my right mind, I will always say no to him.

One of his friends walked over to him. His friend had shaggy dirty blonde hair and bright blue eyes. He was totally riding the whole surfer boy look. He gave me a quick glance and then looked back to James' face.

"Yo, man. What's happenin here?" I rolled my eyes.

"Nothing. Just another wannabe who's not worth my time." James snarled at me then turned around and headed off, not caring if Bubblehead Surfer boy followed him or not, but obviously expecting it. Surfer boy gave me one last glance and then followed after his master like a lost puppy.

"Ugh," I groaned in utter disgust.

I headed off towards the train.

After unloading my entire luggage (except my music case, which I now held protectively to my side) I went to find a compartment. By now almost all of the students had taken seats. I walked past several cars that were completely filled up. Finally at the last car there was a compartment with only a girl and a boy sitting in it. The girl had light brown hair with neon green tips. The boy had long black hair that fell over his eyes sloppily. They were both wearing school robes, which were hideous and to my dismay I realized I would also fall victim to this cruel uniform.

On the corner of both the robes was a dark green snake on a silver and green backdrop. Their ties were also silver and green. I didn't know what the houses were like here but snakes are usually the bad ones. Sadly there were no other compartments so I rapped on the window.

The girl didn't look up but kept scribbling manically in a notebook. The boy shifted his gaze lazily from the window to my face behind the glass. He nodded his head for me to come in and state my purpose.

"Hi. There are, um, no other compartments so I was wondering whether I could sit here or not," I said rather quietly.

The boy nodded. The girl still didn't look up. I took this as a yes.

I sat down opposite from the both by the window using up as little space as possible. My music however was another story. I refused to squish it away in a corner. Or even in the small luggage rack above us. That was out of the question. I placed it delicately on the seat beside me like you would place a newborn baby.

"Who are you?" The boy asked softly. His voice had a certain subtle roughness to it but also very quiet and dark. The English accent was tainted with something else as well. I couldn't put my finger on it. Irish maybe? Whatever it was it was quite beautiful.

"I'm Eddy," I said. Out of habit there was a tone of finality to it and a bit of spite.

"Eddy's an odd name," he said. I shrugged.

"What's your name then?"

"It's Eddy actually. Short for Edmond,"

I crinkled my nose. Another Eddy? He totally stole my thing. Maybe I should spell mine with an I or something. I think Eddy short for Editha is supposed to be spelled with an i anyways.

"What's your name short for?" he asked.

"It's not. My name is Eddy," I replied.

"Your parents actually named you Eddy?"

"Sure, why not? They were taking magic seeds or something,"

Eddy 2 looked at me strangely. Nope. In my mind he shall be called Edmond. It's annoying saying Eddy 2.

"I'm Pheobe if anybody gives a shit," the girl with neon green hair tips said still scribbling like her life depended on it, "Nice to meet you Eddy not Edmond-Eddy Eddy,"

"Uh...nice to meet you too," I said politely.

"So, why are you here?" Edmond asked flatly.

"Uh..." trick question? "There were no other compartments?"

"Your point? Why'd you sit with us?"

"Um...because there's only two of you in here so I thought you'd have room to spare. If it's too much I could leave," I offered.

"No, I mean why did you sit with _us_? Most people would rather be fed to the giant squid than get anywhere near us and here you are within mere feet of us,"

"What Eddy _means_," Pheobe said, "is that we're not exactly 'liked' by people who are still in ownership of their brains."

"No, what Eddy _means_ is that people avoid us like the plague," Edmond said.

"Oh...that's nice," I say.

Edmond looks at me expectantly. Pheobe scribbles more slowly, but refuses to look up from the notebook.

"So...when's the running and screaming going to start?" Edmond finally asks.

"Um...never?"

"You're weird,'

"Same to you," I mutter under my breath.

For the first time since I have arrived Pheobe looks up. Her face is quite dramatic. High cheekbones, a sharp buttony nose, small blood red lips and strangest of all bright orange eyes. She looks at me incredulously.

"Are you serious?" she asks.

"Oops," Understatement, "I'm sorry. Didn't mean to like call you weird or whatever. Didn't think you could hear," I say.

"No, no, not that. It's just...I've never had anyone back talk us before. This is new," she smirked, "I like you already."

"Ookaay then," I say.

Pheobe returns to her scribbling. Edmond sits and stares at me questioningly. After a few moments of this I turn to my music case and open it up. I take out my walkman and pop in my Evanescence CD.

No matter what, Amy Lee's voice can always soothe me. I can feel every word she sings like they're my own emotions. Soon I've fallen asleep listening to the soundtrack of my life.

--/\--

"Wake up," a voice said through sleep mist.

"Get out of my room," I said groggily.

"Eddy, wake up,"

"No, you get out of my room!"

"Eddy!"

I open my eyes. Then I jump back. Barely inches away from my face are Edmond's chocolate brown eyes. His hand is outstretched and shaking my shoulder. Behind him Pheobe is standing up, looking at me, her notebook tucked under one arm.

When I jumped back someone's cloak fell off me and onto the floor. I realized either Edmond or Pheobe must've covered me while I slept. I feel loved.

"We're gunna be there in fifteen minutes," Edmond said, breath sweet in my face, "Better put on your robes."

"I don't have any robes," and hopefully I never will. Those things are hideous.

He looked at me confusedly. "Why don't you have any robes?" he asked.

"Cause I didn't get any yet. I just transferred," I explained.

"What? Really? How old are you?" Pheobe asked from behind Edmond.

"I'm fifteen."

"Huh," Pheobe said, "Well waddya know. Here I was thinking you were just a tall first year."

"Yeah," I said through gritted teeth, "I've gotten that before."

"Well, you can borrow a pair of Pheobe's then," said Edmond, "She won't mind sharing."

"Yes she wi—"Pheobe began to protest but Edmond held up a hand to silence her.

"She won't mind," he repeated.

Pheobe grumbled something then pulled out some robes for me. My face twisted in distaste but I quickly recomposed my face to one of delight.

"Thank you," I said.

I waited for them to leave the compartment so I could change. They just sat there.

"I'm going to change now," I said slowly. They still didn't clue in.

"I'm going to take off my clothes and change into these new ones now," I said just as slowly.

"Oh!" they said in unison.

"Sorry. It's just Pheobe and I are brother and sister and we're not used to that."

They left the compartment. I sat there for a moment shocked at how two people who looked so little alike could be related, and then disgusted at how they didn't give each other privacy to change, siblings or not. Then I started getting changed into Pheobe's robes.

They were pretty big on me. The collar which looked high and stiff on Pheobe revealed much of my collar bone and the skirt dipped low on the waist and went down past my knees. I looked as if I were drowning in my clothes.

I pulled my poor boy cap back on and opened the door. Instead of Pheobe and Edmond though, I saw Albus.

"You took off on me," I said.

"Me? _You_ took off on _me_ if I recall."

"Yeah, well I turned around. You'd already disappeared by then."

James just rolled his eyes.

"Come on, let's get off this train," he said.

Just then I realized that the train was no longer moving and that we must have arrived.

I walked to the window like a curious little child. I stared at the sight before me for a long time contemplating.

Turrets rose above a dreary black lake. Candle light flickered in most of the windows casting eerie flickers of light across the grounds. Trees reached menacingly from the forests, trying to gobble the whole landscape up. Birds fluttered up in random places among the trees showing lots of activity even 

at this ungodly hour. I could just barely make out the outline of a goal hoop on the quidditch pitch behind the castle. Instead of the cheery feeling I always got from quidditch this brought on a feeling like I was going to be sick.

"...It's the magical boarding school from hell," I said with dread.


	3. Friend of Gaunt

The great hall is evil and gloomy and the most horribly medieval place in the whole entire world. The sad thing is that this isn't even the half of it. There are actual _torches_ lighting up the place. The stairs leading off of it are all brownyish even though I am positive at one point they were a pearly white. The floors are dark brown wood that creaks and the temperature inside is the same as it is outside. There are huge doors directly in front of me where a group of first years are gathered in front of a porky man with frown lines all over his face and a triple chin. He is talking to them like you might expect a boot camp instructor to speak to someone.

When we got off of the train a huge man called Tibson told me to follow the first years on their boats. He told me that the head mistress here, Professor McGonagall, would come find me in the great hall and tell me what to do next.

It appeared that Albus and Tibson were good friends. When I asked, Albus said that Tibson was the son of a good friend of his fathers and that they'd been friends since they were born. Tibson was the ground keeper at Hogwarts, taking the job from his father. The thing about Tibson is that he is three quarters giant. Both his mother and father were half giants. He's no different intellectual wise, but because of some law that some crackpot witch made back even when Albus' father was a child, Tibson couldn't get a job anywhere else. I thought that was stupid, seeing as that witch is dead already and that law is totally discriminating against half-breeds. Albus thought that too. But he said that his Auntie Hermione is head of this sort of anti-ministry council and they are trying to overthrow a lot of the ministries previous laws and all of the ones that happened during the You-Know-Who era and replace them with better more logical ones that the council had.

According to Albus his aunt does some pretty radical stuff for this council. Protests and strikes. She convinces people to boycott and she even rebels against the ministry, breaking some of their minor law to prove her point. She always finds loopholes to get out of being sent to Azkaban though.

Oh, by the way, Azkaban is the world's greatest and most terrifying wizard prison. Even I know that.

As I wait for the head mistress I run through my head the game plan. I'm going to go to this school, do the most radical horrifying inexcusably evil pranks possible and my father will realize that even here I am horrible, and that I am a teenager and I will rebel this point much. Then, seeing this, he will send me back to Junisize Wreck where I belong and never question me again.

Simple.

A loud click-clacking sound rings through the great hall, bouncing off its high walls and domed ceiling. I turn to see the most evil looking woman staring down her long bony nose at me. She looks like a vulture. Beady eyes looking through spectacles perched on the edge of her nose, skinny wrinkly face with a permanent frown, a dark tight bun at the back of her head and a witch's hat perched with precision at the top of her head. She sticks out a bony claw towards me, as if beckoning me.

"Come, Editha Jones. It is time for the sorting. You will be presented after the first years as the first transfer in the history of Hogwarts." She sounds like she's cut each word with a steel blade. They are sharp, to the point and cold.

"Eddy," I say with dignity. She doesn't scare me.

"Ms. Jones. Now come," her rough hand grasps my wrist in a death hold. I didn't think the old bag had this much strength in her. I can't even move my fingers.

She drags me along behind her, not through the huge double doors, but through a much smaller door off to the side that I hadn't noticed.

Inside is a dark hallway with one torch. At the end of the hallway is another door, better kept than the previous one.

"Wait here," Professor McGonagall instructs, "I will summon you when it is your time to present yourself before the students of Hogwarts. You will then be sorted. And take off that god awful hat. It's disgraceful."

"Hey. Don't talk bad about my hat," I say indignantly.

"I am the Professor here Ms. Jones. Not you. I will say whatever I please about your attire."

I stuck my tongue out to McGonagall's retreating back. She left back down the way we had come, drowning me in total darkness. A shiver went down my back. I don't like being in a dark enclosed space in a place I don't know.

As I sit in the dark I ponder about how they sort people here at Hogwarts. At Junisize Wreck they have you cast a mist spell. Depending on your personality, the mist will be pitch black, opaque white, soft blue or vibrant yellow. Blacks are Notharians, Soft blues are Soarbans, Whites are Steedmore, and yellows are Flammen. There has never been a time in history when the mist has come out any other colour than those four, or when the mists have said wrong. Then again, it was the student that cast it, and who better to know the student than themselves?

Through the door was applause. Names were called out and a deep used voice shouted out random words. Gryffindor. Hufflepuff. Ravenclaw. Slytherin. Sometimes the breaks were longer than others, or sometimes the voice called out the strange words instantly. I just didn't. Was this like a muggle dodge ball game? Did they just stand in a line and the house leaders just pick the ones they liked best? Nobody knows me here. I won't be picked at all. I'll be that kid with the braces and glasses and sinus problems who just sits on the bench and watches the game because nobody wanted him.

Finally the last name was called a Gryffindor to massive applaud and I heard McGonagall's voice come on. All of a sudden the door flew open basking me in light.

The room was huge. The ceiling was almost like the one in Junisize Wreck. Non-existent. But there was something unnatural about this one. I know it must be an enchantment. In my direct line of vision is a 

long, slightly curved table with whom I may only guess will be the faculty and staff of Hogwarts. Most of these will be my future teachers I thought distraughtly. They all wore the same scary-cheery smiles. Too sweet. Like cupcakes with too much icing.

In the middle of the large curved table McGonagall stood in front of a winged perch where she was addressing the students below, who I couldn't see yet. She beckoned to me to come forward.

To everyone present she said, "This is Hogwarts first ever transfer student," _don't say Editha, don't say Editha_, "Miss Editha Jones." _My previously over life is _now_ over_.

I walked to join Professor McGonagall, purposely averting my eyes from the students.

When I got to the podium McGonagall asked, "Miss Jones will give us a word before being sorted into her house in the traditional way." She expected me to say something?

"...uh...well...thanks for having me here I guess," I said with the tiniest unnoticeable hint of sarcasm. I shifted my hat on my head and waited for someone to say something. When nobody did I cleared my throat and said, "Well, that's all I have to say so...yeah."

I could actually hear a cricket chirping in the background. Or maybe I just imagined it.

"Thank you then Editha," I scowled while the rest of the room finally clapped; "now she will be sorted."

McGonagall lead me over to a stool. Uh...okay? She had me sit down on it and took my cap away, with great protest on my part. She then brought over a tattered old wizards hat with a rip along the seam.

I'm being sorted by an ugly old hat? What is this, amateur hour? Honestly, this is a joke. This entire place is nutty.

Before I knew it McGonagall placed the hat on my head. I barely refrained from screaming _Aaaa! Lice, lice!_

Under the hat was stinky. The hat came down to my eyebrows, so for the first time I was forced to look down at the students. They all stared at me, some with impatience, some with curiosity, some with nonchalance. There were four tables. On the table to my far right were people with devilish faces and silver and green ties like Edmond and Pheobe. Next were people with stiff straight backs and general know-it-all looks. Hate them already. After that were people with friendly welcome faces and smiles. At the end were people with bold my-shit-don't-stink faces. They looked brave and sturdy. Like rocks.

I searched for a face I knew, but couldn't identify either the Potters or Edmond and Pheobe in the great mass of people. I resorted then to looking down at my shoes. Ah, pretty black sneakers, how you save me at the most unforeseen obstacles. I thank you.

Suddenly the hat was speaking and thrashing my head around in every which direction.

"Hm...Peculiar peculiar. I've only a few cases like _you_. Harry Potter you know. You've got the wit, no doubt, but too much boldness and cunning for Ravenclaw or Huffepuff. You're sly and sneaky...but then 

again so were the Weasley twins...hmm...difficult, difficult. Lion or Snake? Gryffindor or Slytherin. Now where to put you."

I let the oddity of nature ponder for a bit at the top of my head. If I wasn't too terrified of what it might do to me if I spoke I might point out to it that I don't know what Slytherin or Gryffindor are so maybe it should enlighten me.

"I say...SLYTHERIN!" the hat decided.

There was a smattering of applause, just enough to die out my sigh of relief as the hat was finally removed from my head. Now that was freakish.

McGonagall returned my cap while hissing in my ear, "Put it away. Go to the table on your far right."

I walked over to the table at the far right with the people in silver and green ties. When I got there I realized I hadn't got a clue as to where to sit. I looked up and down the benched trying to think of a place where I should sit. All of their faces were unwelcoming and stony. I walked down a few steps of bench when I heard my voice being called.

"Yope Eddy! Over here!"

I looked for the voice. Down at the end of the table, with a measurable gap of bench between them and the rest of the Slytherins, were Pheobe and Edmond. Pheobe was waving me over frantically, while Edmond was staring at his empty plate in deep concentration.

The whole room seemed to hold it's breathe as I walked over to them. When I sat down there was a collective gasp. My voice bounced across the walls and to the ears of every staring student as I said, "'Sup guys?"

"The enchanted ceiling," Pheobe replied.

Then the whispers started.

"...did you _see_ that?..."

"...walked right up to them..."

"..._insane_?! She must've had a serious head injury or something..."

"...Pheobe and Edmond Gaunt!..."

"...poor thing, hope she survives..."

I looked up at the guys and laughed. "What did you two do? Go around sticking dung bombs up people's asses?"

Pheobe laughed. "Not even close!"

The great hall went silent again as our laughter rang over the collective whispers. Then McGonagall came on again saying something I wasn't listening to.

"...and in the immortal words of Albus Dumbledore, Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Tuck in," McGonagall concluded.

All of the sudden food appeared on the golden plates in front of us. Chicken, mashed potatoes with green onions, Yorkshire puddings, salads, soups, buttered bread, pastas and all other sorts. Edmond's eyes swam with gratitude and he proceeded to open his mouth larger than I thought humanly possible and inhale the surrounding food, at the same time loading more onto his plate.

I glanced at Pheobe with a disgusted face.

"He's always like this. Just ignore him."

I unsurely put some garden salad onto my plate and one Yorkshire pudding with gravy. I'm never really that hungry after long trips. And plus, this is a different country and a different place. For all I know they make garden salads with refined rubber here. You never know.

I took very small bites, chewing carefully, testing with my taste buds for anything out of the ordinary. Also I was flinching and twitching away from any crumbs that might've spewed out of Edmonds mouth as he opened it up, still filled with an assortment of shovelled food, and stuffed even more in.

It's not that I'm disgusted by mulched up food that has previously been drenched in someone else's saliva. To the contrary, my brother Micheal used to be just like this. But it's an instinct. Any foreign wet shapeless objects should be avoided at all costs, and for good reasons.

Beside me Pheobe was shaking her head while taking out her notebook. Edmond was trying to chomp on two chicken wings at the same time. I sighed, rested my head on my hand and played with my food.

--/\--

The Slytherin dormitories are in the basement. It is terrible. They are extremely chilly and dreary. The whole place is dark and smells of mould. There are no windows and there is an eerie glow from the black lake that I had spotted from the train earlier which is so conveniently right above the place.

"This is...nice," I had said to Edmond and Pheobe when we walked through to the common room.

They just shrugged. Pheobe grabbed my wrist and lead me up to the girls dorms. They were even worse than my first impression, if that could be deemed possible.

The blankets were threadbare and minimal. The beds were covered by ragged black lace curtains, many of them having been cut or ripped by previous owners and no one being bothered to repair them. The floor was, go figure, creaky old hardwood, and the windowless stone walls made the place only smaller and darker. A silver chandelier hung from the ceiling with only two candles lit and even they were slowly flickering out.

"Home," Pheobe said grandly. She padded her way over to the bed in the very corner of the room, pulled the curtain, lit a lantern and began scribbling in her notebook.

I took a look at the beds, examining them. I knew of course that I was going to choose the bed closest to Pheobe, which was the smallest and tucked into where I could only assume a window and window seat should've been. It was placed in a way so that you only needed to pull one curtain and it would look just as if a window hid behind. It looked pretty unoccupied and by the looks of it everyone else had already placed things around their beds. Clothes and trunks. The animals have marked their territories.

Pheobe had told me that the girls I was to share a dorm with were all bitchs. They only cared about their looks, though they had none, and would shun stab or kill you in the blink of an eye if they found reason. Their names were Felicity Bulstrode, Cree Parkinson and Gwen Zambini.

Felicity was big, blonde, and ugly. According to Pheobe you spotted her butt before you saw her face, for it was so big. Cree had a face that looked like she'd run into a brick wall. Squashed little nose and squinty eyes. It may have actually looked okay on her had her face not been so long. I'd spotted her down the table. Her chin seemed to droop down forever. Gwen was the only pretty one. She had gorgeous dark skin like midnight and flashing green eyes. Felicity and Cree were her posse.

But luckily they wouldn't bother Pheobe and me. I was freaky new girl and Pheobe was just freaky. Dunno why. Haven't been told yet. I've been trying to put pieces together. Every single whisper I hear in the hall is like a clue to this big mystery. Why do everyone hate Pheobe and Edmond so much?

With my foot I shoved my luggage from beside the door where they had been left to the tiny bed while pondering my little mystery. The only thing I heard the entire time I was here that rang any bells was Pheobe and Edmond's last name. Gaunt. It sounds so familiar. I'm sure I've heard it somewhere or other. Even in passing maybe. But it just feels like a name I should know.

I reached the bed and shoved my luggage far under the bed. I made an estra trip to grab my CD case which was placed carefully at the back of my bed where it could not be seen unless you were looking for it. Safe as safe can be in this treacherous place.

I got my pyjamas out and pulled them on. It seemed to have been such a long day. Longer than any other somehow. I slumped onto my bed, closed the curtains, and curled up into a safe little ball. Not thought of, unheard, hidden. Protected. I drifted off into an undisturbed sleep.


	4. One in which cell phones are introduced

My first class was a double in Defense Against the Dark Arts. In my opinion Defense Against the dark arts is a foolish class lead by people that think their students have no minds. Honestly. Whilst you are learning how to defend yourself against all these horrible things, you are learning what all these horrible things are, learning the hexes jinxes and curses you could use against your enemies. So it's bad if you have a little Voldemort prodigy in Defense Against the Dark Arts because that's where a lot of his training probably came from, but it's a very good thing—for me anyhow—to have a person bent on destroying the school in the class. It's very useful for me.

The DADA teacher is Professor Thomas. He is a big dark guy with a straight nose and broad shoulders. His voice is light and almost like music. I've heard that he was in some sort of Anti-Umbridge group lead by Mr. Potter in his fifth year. He ran away rather than conform to Voldemort in his seventh year and went on all sorts of adventures. He even dated Mrs. Potter once. So maybe he's up to scratch. Maybe.

When I walked into the DADA classroom there was a long silent bit. Everyone was staring at me. I looked down at my watch. I was only four or five minutes late.

Professor Thomas finally broke the silence by saying, "You're late Ms. Jones."

"Oh, sorry."

"And you are breaking a school rule at this point in time."

Okaayyy. I'll bite. "Excuse me?"

"You're attire is against the school dress code," Professor Thomas pointed to my clothes.

I was wearing a regular school uniform like everyone else. And I was also wearing black leggings, knee high Harley Davidson boots, a dark blue long sleeve top under my Hogwarts one and of course my poor boy cap.

"No it isn't," I said with a slight smirk, "I've read your dress code. It says that School uniforms must be worn at all times on the campus and that the uniforms are not to be altered," Professor Thomas was about to open his mouth and say something but I continued, "And I didn't Alter this uniform Professor Thomas. I accessorized."

The whole class stared agape at me. Well, the whole class minus Edmond and Pheobe who were smiling widely. I walked over to them and plopped my things in the empty pair of desks behind them, seeing as they were sitting together. Edmond looked back at me and then gathered his things and moved to sit beside me. I smiled and looked up to see Pheobe's face. She gave a quick nod, took out her notebook, shifted herself in a way that Professor Thomas couldn't see what she was doing and began to scribble.

I never asked what she was scribbling. It never came up and it would be rude to ask. Anyhows, I'm sure I'll find out soon enough. I'm not going anywhere.

"Hey _Editha_," Edmond said. I blushed, tugging my cap lower.

"I thought your parents named you Eddy," he said smiling.

"Well...about that. My parents...my mom thought Editha was a nice name and obviously...she was wrong," I said pulling my cap even lower still and slouching in my chair. I was feeling very uncomfortable talking about my stupid name and my stupid...and my stupid idiotic horrible mom who killed herself.

My brow furrowed thinking of mom. My eyes had a dull stinging sensation in them and I gulped. I shoved my hand into my bag and dug around for a moment, finally pulling out a little black phone.

Jude, my other best friend from Junisize Wreck, and I had discovered these muggle devices called cell phones. They were useful. You could message each other and other sorts just at the palm of your hand instead of by owl. They could be tucked away easy enough and most Professors had no clue what they were. Jude and I had modified them a lot though, so that instead of silly electricity and battery power they worked on magic. It would only open for Jude, Lexa, Eel and I. Jude Lexa and Eel each had one of their own too. Mine is a**Samsung **SGH-X830 swivel music phone, which in my opinion are genius pieces of technology, and I applaud the muggles for coming up with it. It may be the only useful thing they've ever done. Sadly the electrical and battery field doo hickeys had to go. Those were pointless. But other than that they did a fine job, well done to them. Lexa's is a red Motorola Razor, Eel's is a green Nokia Aeon Concept, and Jude's is a white **sony ericsson** w580i. They all work nicely as well and are fine bits of equipment, after having been tickered with for a few months, but my Samsung is far superior.

I flipped it open and silenced it with a quick rap from my wand. I punched through a few menus until I got to my message box. The guys had been sending me things all morning.

**Lexa: Eddddy, I cant stnd skewl here wifout u. It was the 1st nite I had to spnd wifout u waking me up every few hrs. It was terible! I nearly killed Daisy, that bitch deserved it neways. & poor Jude had no clu u were gone. U shood hav seen how upset he was wen we told him. Come bak 2 us!! 33 Lex**

**Jude: wat is this madness?! Wen did u leave. Hoe. Come bak rite now or I'll get the barrel full of monkeys. I will!**

Oh, poor Jude, I thought. He's always so mellow and oblivious. He must be really upset to freak out like this. Well it's not like I never told him. He should've listened.

From Eel there was a video clip. I opened it and watched without sound. Eel's face came on, his shaggy brown hair wild around his face like usual, his light brown eyes showing anger. He was talking fast. The person holding his phone said something and he lightened. He waved and the camera shifted over to show Jude sitting in his desk carving something into the desktop with his quill. Eel gave Jude a hug. Jude looked at Eel like he was insane, as Jude never liked being hugged much. The phone shifted again to show Professor Smith yelling something at Eel. Eel walked to the front of the room, and Professor Smith said something else. Eel smiled, said something and—

"Ms. Jones," Professor Thomas called to me from the front of the class, "Bring that up here."

Reluctantly I brought the cell phone to the front of the class. He probably wouldn't know how to work, but if he did I was screwed because I'd already unlocked it.

"Hand it over." I gave the cell phone to him. He rapped the top of it with his wand twice, turning on the sound and enlarging it. "If it was important enough to disrupt my class with then the whole class should see it," he said. No!

He pressed a few buttons on it and the video clip restarted itself.

"Eddy!" Eel said, "How dare you leave us. Look what you've done to Jude! You horrible, horrible woman. I've never seen him so sad. And what about me. I feel so...unloved." Eel gave puppy dog eyes.

From behind the phone came Lexa's voice. She must be holding the phone.

"It's okay. If Eddy were here she'd say go make your own love. You and Jude need love. Go make love."Eel laughed and went and hugged Jude.

"Eel! What in blazes are you doing?" Screamed Professor Smith. Eel walked up to the front of the room.

"Making love for Eddy. What are you doing?"

"I am _trying_ to teach a class! Enough of this nonsense!"

"Professor Smith, do you know what Eddy would say if she was here? She'd say that you need some love." Eel then gave Professor Smith a quick hug around the middle and a kiss on the cheek. "Do you feel loved now Professor?"

"Mr. Fitzgerald! Fifty house points! Detention for the next week. I will be seeing you after class. Now _sit_!" The phone switched to Lexa's smiling face framed by her dark red bob. Her green eyes sparkled.

"See Eddy? Flammen just lost fifty house points not even half an hour into the first class. Aren't we making you proud? And you will be so psyched to see what else we're doing in your name. We'll send you the video clips later. But don't worry," she winked, "We won't do anything you wouldn't've done."

The vid clip ended and it went back to my inbox. There was a strangled silenced moment. And then from the back of the room Edmond began bursting out laughing. "Oh shut up," I said. He 

just laughed harder, followed by small giggles from Pheobe who was obviously trying to hold off a flood of laughter. I scowled at them.

"This will be confiscated. See me after class about it," Professor Thomas said. I pulled my cap backwards on my head and headed back to my desk.

"Some friends you got there huh Eddy?" Edmond asked.

"Yeah, I do," I said stubbornly. Truth be told they were making me very proud right now. The maximum amount of chaos caused was good. If my dad found out that I was still messing things up at Junisize Wreck all the way across the sea...I smiled. This was working out brilliantly.

--/\\\--

Other than that first class, nothing even remotely interesting happened to me at Hogwarts. All in all, it is an extremely boring school. I learned early about all the good short cuts, about the stairs that were missing and which doors were actually walls in disguise. Not to go to the washroom on the third floor because a crazy ghost lived there and that I can sneak off campus under the wimping willow, a mental tree that will try it's hardest to kill you if you get too close. It's pretty useless though because outside of Hogwarts is only a stupid little town with hardly any shops and after that is just an open expanse of wasteland. After class I picked up my phone and I've been messaging my friends ever since, and they have been keeping up with the random weirdness in class and through the school. Not exactly what I have done, but definitely stuff I would have bet them to do if I was there. Example: Jude went streaking through our History of Magic teacher's office. Enough said.

About two weeks something crucially important came up though. The announcement that quidditch teams were starting up.

"Boys and girls, may I have your attention please," McGonagall said from the front of the room one morning at breakfast, "There has been much talk about this but it has been decided, after much discussion, that yes, the Hogwarts quidditch sessions will be continuing." There was a great cheer from all four house tables and I nearly choked on the piece of scrambled egg that had been dangling from my mouth.

"_However_, note that this is a _privilege. _What happened last year between Mr. Gabriel and Mr. Floy will not be forgotten or tolerated. As for captains, Ravenclaw's captain will be Shaun Squires, Hufflepuff's will be Albus Potter, Slytherin's will be Scorpius Malfoy, and finally Gryfindor's is to be Blair Hoppert. Speak to your house Captain for a try out time. Thank you. That is all."

I had only spoken to Albus twice since we had gotten to Hogwarts and it was in the Arithmancy class we both shared. We didn't get to speak much for Professor Davis is a hawk, but never in that time had he told me he played quidditch, or mentioned that he was a good enough flier to have earned captain. I was impressed. Of course, I would be trying out. Other than music quidditch is my true passion. There is nothing more exhilarating than flying, and even more better to be hitting a bludger around whilst you're at it.

I stood up and searched down the table for Scorpius. Scorpius, I have to admit, is foyyn! Totally toned, average height, sparkling blue eyes and long blonde hair. He has a permanent tan and a smirk that could turn a sumo wrestler into a puddle of sloppy goop. He is evil and spends his spare time ridiculing anybody in Gryffindor or Ravenclaw. He is perfect. Sadly, I am not allowed to have crushes so he will just be some random eye candy. The no-crush thing is a rule. I have made up several of them for myself here at Hogwarts and fraternising with the opposite gender is on the big no-no's list.

Scorpius was not hard to spot and I walked over to him. He noticed me after a moment and faked non-chalance though I could see question in his eyes. He grunted in greeting.

I got straight to the point "When are tryouts?"

"_You_ want to try out for quidditch?" he asked as if it was the most surprising thing in the universe.

"Yeah, me. Why, is there any problems with that?" I asked.

"Nope, none at all," he smirked, "Tryouts will be this Wednesday."

"Thanks," I said turning away.

"Out of curiosity, which position are you planning on trying?" he asked.

"Beater."

Scorpius laughed. "You're joking right. Why, you're tiny! You'd barely be able to lift the bat."I scowled and turned back to Scorpius.

"Did you just call me tiny?" I asked, enraged.

"Yeah." He said challenging.

I gave a snort. "I could still beat you off your broom."

"We'll see about that," he said in a tone of finality. It seemed I'd just been given my first quidditch challenge.

"Hey, Scorpius?" I asked

He gave me a _what_-_now?_ look. "Yes?"

"Well that's a pretty boring challenge you've made. There isn't even a bet involved. Are you honestly too scared to put a little money on the line?"

"Alright. I bet you my broom, the latest nimbus, that not only will you be schooled at quidditch try outs but that you will fall off your broom at least once," Scorpius said with sneering confidence.

"Fair," I said shaking his hand.

While walking away I called over my shoulder, "By the way my broom is a Firebolt 2.0. One that you'll never be riding."

On Wednesday the weather conditions were perfect. Murky, grey skies with little wind and lots of rain. A rare mix that is perfect for a beater. The wetness would give the bludgers more of a turn and the grey skies would make it harder for the other players to notice an oncoming bludger.

I grabbed my bright red ball point pen, laced up my boots and headed down to the pitch. On the way many people stared at me in the halls, whispering to their friends. I was used to this by now, even though they didn't have much to whisper about any longer.

Just as I was walking past the great hall Albus called out my name. I turned and waited for him to catch up.

"Hey," I said smiling slightly.

"Hey," he replied, "So I heard about your little wager with Scorpius. I'm curious to see who wins."

"Me of course!" I exclaim laughingly.

"I don't know. Scorpius is a pretty good quidditch player."

"Your lack of faith in me is wounding," I rolled my eyes.

We were now racing down towards the pitch, mud flinging at the edges of our robes.

Albus is pretty well muscled. Dunno how I missed that previously. He's just the best friend type. You'd never be able to notice physical things like that. It's unnatural. Like checking out your puppy dog. Most girls do thing Albus is 'hot'. He's got a fan club. But he's to shy and humble to aknowledge any of that. When he's asked out he just sheepishly lets them down while blushes. It's funny to watch. Don't tell him I said that. He'd be hurt.

We were finally at the quidditch pitch. The stands were overflowing and I inwardly laughed at how desperate these people were for something interesting. Man, if only they knew. A group of surly looking teens were up in the air. Of course, they were my fellow Slytherins, though we are not close. Other than Pheobe, Edmond, Albus, and occasional harassment from James, I do not speak to _anyone_. Period. There was a good fifteen of them and that meant at least half of them would need to be cut. It was going to be a long and tedious morning.

--/\\\--

Sooner than expected it was time for the beaters to go up. The Chasers, Seekers and Keepers had been dry and disappointing. Pretty much everyone was stupid, uncoordinated, or both. The Chaser's were eventually picked as three of the most bulked persons I've ever seen. Bulstrode, Gnof, and Fincher. They are all built like ultra sumo wrestlers. They're real stupid but impossible to get the quaffle off of due to their incredible fat that will suffocate you within a mile radius. Did I mention how huge these people are?

The Keeper was scrawny which isn't always the smartest choice for somebody who is supposed to be guarding not one but three goals but he is quick as a fly on crack and pretty smart too. Surprising!

Seeker, of course, was Scorpius. Some Slytherins were stupid enough to come to try out as his position. Honestly people! This is pathetic. Scorpius had to scream them off the field with barely their limbs let alone their dignity to show. Scorpius smirked at me as he called the Beaters for their try out. I laughed out loud at him. The other four beaters were huge fumbling idiots. It's like the slogan under Slytherin, minus a select few (US NO DUH!!). Their names were Yokan, Trint, Klate, and Goyle. Mine is Jones and they should learn it.

I caressed my broom carefully in both hands. It is my pride and joy minus my music case. It is beautiful mahogany wood that is light for the air yet sturdy. There are no pieces of wood left out of place and each of the hairs at the end is in line. The handles has a grip for my fingers on it that over the time I've had it has turned into a groove that will fit my fingers and my fingers alone. I barely have to think the direction and I'm already going that way and a simple push or pull up or down can have me going at light speed in steep dives. I can move around the pitdh quick which people always don't think is useful for a beater, but is actually of utmost importance.

I took off with good speed and did the requested lap around the stadium twice before the others had even made it half way. I waited impatiently in the air for the to catch up, stretching my arms. After we were instructed to demonstrate our skills with a bat by hitting a tamed bludger as far as possible while still on our brooms.I took the bat Scorpius gave me reluctantly thinking of my custom made one I had Pheobe bring out for me. Oh well. It'll be my secret weapon then.

My opponents hit the bludgers well enough. They made it at least half way across the field before dropping which is good for a tamed bludger. When it was my turn I took my time, focusing first. Building rage. Then I imagined Micheal's face on the bludger. My eyes burned, my throat contracted and a fury that almost hurt rose within me. I hoisted the bat and swung with all my might. The bludger soared across the pitch, descending hard and fast just before the first goal hoop. My only regret was that I couldn't have slammed that bludger again.

The pitch erupted with applause and shocked _aw_ sounds. I looked over to Scorpius. He was looking at his broom longingly. He waited for me to dismount before speaking.

"Well, you obviously made the team..." he said with a voice that indicated that he wasn't completely focused.

"Good." I began to make my way off the pitch.

"Uh...what about my broom?" Scorpius asked rather sadly.

I laughed. "You actually thought I wanted that? I just wanted the satisfaction. Keep your broom."

Scorpius's eyes at that moment were 30 percent adoration 30 percent awe and 40 percent pure hatred. I smirked and sauntered off the pitch, 100 pecent dominance of this whole school. They're eating out of the palm of my hand, I thought. I can't wait to pull out the pranks.


	5. 001 we're too cool for 007

Guess what? Well that's a stupid question to ask a collective audience who are incapable of answering me. But whatever. I'll imagine you say _what_ with enthusiasm.

Okay, if you insist.Scott Annakins is breeding cornish pixies! YES! This is the perfect blow i need for inspiration. My Merlin, it's like a rainbow is exploding in my mind right now. I'm like one of those cartoon characters with a slot machine for eyes. Well guess what my eyes just landed on baby? (_What?!_) The bright red word PRANK.

Don't ask me how i found out about the cornish pixies. I have ways. And a brain, unlike many of my fellow...well to put it lightly, whole school mates.

I swear to Sirius Black i have never seen stupider kids. Conversation i overheard on my way to transfigurtion:

"Do you know that your eyeballs never grow?"

"What?! They have to! I hear that you can't like see for the first days your alive. So they have to grow if we can see now."

"No! Apparently your eyeballs never grow!"

"Are you shitting me? Who told you this? It couldn't have always been like that...maybe because of global warming or something...?"

Queue me rolling eyes and slamming head against wall repeatedly.

"Um, Eddy?" a voice came from behind me as another _clonk _sound came from me hitting head on afore mentioned wall. (if you think about it, _clonk_ isn't a sound you want to hear from your head. I should have that checked out)

_"What?"_ I moaned in a kill-me-now tone.

"Well, you seem to be slamming your head against the wall. Is there anyhing i can do to help? Assist you in anyway perhaps? If you want to cause yourself pain i will gladly take a few steps back and throw bricks at you."

"Thanks but no thanks, Edmond." I said tiredly.

He guided me gently away from the wall and we continued on my walk to transfiguration.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Well, some offence to you, your school is full of a bunch of idiots. It's dissapointing."

"I agree. But you're not that smart either," he stated.

"Excuse me? I make Einstein look like a sugar crazed infant, godammit!" I said indignantly.

"Well, you say our school is a bunch of idiots, but instead of punishing them for their idiocy, you hit your _own_ head against the wall. Smart one," he finished sarcastically.

I stared at him for a moment, my mouth agape. He looked at me in a Oh-shit-she's-lost-it way.

"I friggen love you!" I said enthusiastically and gave him a hug that almost knocked him over.

"What the hell!" he said just as enthusiastically and hugged me back.

"Stupefy!" came a yell from behind us. If i could have turned I'm sure, telling by te voice, that i would see Pheobe with her wand outstretched in our direction. Instead I could just see the bright green tips of her hair from the corner of my eyes.

"What a Kodak Moment," she exclaimed. I could only imagine what we looked like from her position. Me with my eyes slightly crinkled and a big goofy grin with my arms wrapped around Edmond's waist, Edmond with his mouth open in a ridiculous smile with his arms draped over my shoulders,eyes shut tight.

"And the best part is I can take it with me wherever i go! Locomotor Eddys!"

People stared as Pheobe levitated us up a flight of stairs to our Transfiguration class. When we came into class, everybody was already seated and our Transfigurations master, Professor Tots, was mid-lecture about whistles and tucans or something or rather.

She jumped as we came in. Then her face turned stern.

"Please put your fellow students down, Ms. Gaunt!" she yelled with rage.

Pheobe giggled. "Whatever you say!" She muttered the words to reverse the levitaton spell and we feel to the ground, Edmond on top of me smiling his strange smile.

"Ms. Gaunt!"

Pheobe looked taken aback. "But you said put them down," she said playing dumb, "Why are you mad at _me_?"

Professor Tots just sighed angrily and released Edmond and I from the stupefying hex. We stood up, brushing ourselves off. Edmond had turned a deep scarlet. I had my poor boy cap down as far as it could go without falling off my head. We shuffled to the back of the class and sat at three empty seats. I took out my iPod and put one earbud in, turning it to Muse's Time is Running Out.

After a few minutes of awkward silence shatterd only by Muse screaming the end of the world, Edmond asked shakily,"So why do you love me?"

Pheobe, who wasn't there for our previous chat, burst out laughing at the strange comment. I slunk lower in my seat.

After a few more moments I said, "Well if you _must_ know, it was because you are a genius."

"Well, yeah, I already figured that out for myself thanks, but when did you figure this out Mrs. Slam own Head Against Stone Wall?"

"It was along the time when you said, in different words, that I should punish the school for their idiocy. Eddy _like _the way you think!" I said with a smirk.

"I'm scared," said Pheobe.

"You should be," I said.

--/\\\\--

The potions classroom is in the dungeons. It seems a particularly gloomy place to most, but I find it peaceful, a place to think and unleash your wildest and most cunning plans. It's normal for slytherins to hang out down here, skulking in the corners or snickering and hexing passers-by. Pheobe, Edmond and I were in no means out of place.

It's not a major operation but just for the sake of it i made it out as one. Pheobe Edmond and I discussed the plans countless times, going over every detail. There was even some talk about disguises and Edmond suggested that I take off my neon orange arm warmers, slush boots and poor boy cap and Pheobe take off the heavy eyeliner and shadow along with taking out the hair tips. Aside from being apalled at the very idea, we decided it would look too obvious that we were up to something without our usual attire.

And Edmond got bitch-slapped for the very idea. He didn't make any other suggestions.

Finally we headed out to pull off "Operation 001". Edmond was stationed as look-out at the end of the hall. Nobody questioned why he was leaning against the edge of the corrider, arms crossed and scowl set on his face. It was too text-book Edmond.

Pheobe and I casually slipped into the potions classroom like it was any other day. As foreseen, Professor Flint was in the great hall eating dinner, not in his office. We snuck in with no problem, shushing and giggling and toppling over each other. We sound like people who were about to suck face in a dark broom closet or something. I am grateful we were both girls and we do not have to worry about those things with each other like it would have been with any of my guy friends.

Unless...

I turned to Pheobe.

"You're straight right?"

"What the bloody Lily Evans?" she asked, laying it hard on the english accent.

"Straight as in not gay or lesbo or off sucking face with random female strippers. On the sidewalk, away from the curbs. Capiesh?"

"Oh, yeah! Mi Comprende amiga."

"Wrong language."

"What? I thought capiesh was spanish."

"I don't know. Maybe it is maybe it isn't, that's not the point! Are you gay? This is important!"

"What," she asked fake batting her eyes at me, "you wouldn't be my friend if i was a lesbian?"

"I'm not saying that," I said, "I'm just saying i would relocate my bed from that closely to yours and never leave my undergarments hanging on the bedposts as i usually do. And that would only be for the safety of you and the people around you. Well, and my safety may also have a big role in my decisions, but whatever, same thing."

"Haha. No, I'm straight. I'm even kind of seeing a guy right now. Kinda. But it's under wraps, you know, for my _reputation_."

I was about to ask what reputation when i caught sight of the clock. I decided we could finish this conversation later, and more importantly i could get Pheobe to kiss and tell, after the mission was completed.

We continued into Professor's office. It was filled with the unexpected treasurs. i.e. a picture of some sort of hooker wearing a leopard suit blown up on the wall, a spandex biking outfit thrown over the back of his chair and a whole drawer full of prescription sleeping pills. These things and the mere thought of small balding Professor Flint in the middle of all this had us in a state of near hysterics again.

When we calmed ourselves down enough we made our way to Flint's potions cupboard. Upon opening it we found potions and ingrediants galoe, each bubbling n cauldrons make funny colours and someglowing a bit and throwing shadows upon the walls.

We searched for a while until we found the right potion. We quickly filled a vial and left the potions classroom.

At the end of the corridor we saw Edmond screaming at a third year. As we came closer we caught a bit of what he was saying.

"...look I don't point at my croch when I have to go the bathroom do I? Right, so you don't point at your wrist when you want me to hurry up. I'll take as much of my damn time as I want to. Go wet yourself," he finished.

The third year ran away, tears leaking down his face looking like he actually might just wet himself.

"What was that for?" Pheobe and I both asked.

"The twerp thought he was a hall monitor or something. Aparently there is an ammount of time that your allowed to spend wishing doom and misery on people in a dungeon because of a fire code. I swear, they are all losers." he said huffily.

"Well, we got da 'stuff', lets get outa 'ere befo da po-po catch up," I said.

Pheobe and Edmond stared at me.

"What?"

"You're a freak, you know that?"

"I was just getting in character!" I said defensively. They rolled their eyes at me.

"Hey, who is the master mind behind this operation?" I asked.

"You are," they said at the same time.

"Right, so who gets to talk 80's ex-convict?"

"You do," they said.

"Very good, let's execute portion B of Operation 001. Agent Kill All, Agent Seaweed Hair, disperse!"

As they walked off to their stations I heard Pheobe mumble, "Maybe she should be commited. The child obviously has problems."

"Smite you Seaweed Hair!" I screamed down the hall at her. "SMITE!"

--/\\\\--

In under an hour we were gathered behind a pillar down the hall from the ravenclaw tower. We had three cups in our hands, and three hairs. As we thew them in the liquid turned a murky bubbling blue colour, like moldy wall paint.

"Yum," said Edmond as he eyed the cup nonplussed.

"Dinners served, you guys," I said, "1...2...3!"

We all drank the nasty liquid with scowls and just barely held onto the cups. Then a painful transformation occured. I got taller. Much taller. I towered over the still morphing forms of Pheobe and Edmond. My jaw got wider and my feet got bigger. My fingers became long and spindly and damaged at the knuckles, as well with my legs and knees.

"I am, IRONMAN!" I yelled. In reality (or my twisted representation of it) i was actually Scott Annakins, a muggle born ravenclaw genius who always wore his tie loose and shirt untucked no matter how many times he was repremanded for it and he always walked with a slight limp.

Pheobe and Edmond, or should I say Roger Williamson and Fabian Crest, Scott's best friends, looked up at me and blinked.

"Wow," Edmond said in awe. "Looking up at Eddy. I never thought I'd see the day..."

I grumbled and refrained from smacking him. We walked over to the entrance to the Ravenclaw entrance, me discovering that Scott Annikins didn't have a limp.

Earlier, when the plotting of the master plan had been taking place Pheobe and Edmond informed me that in order to get into the Ravenclaw's tower you had to anwer a witty question. I gave a pfft-ing sound at Pheobe and Edmond's worried glances.I was a genius. I could handle whatever a _doorknob_ had to dish out.

When we reached the knocker i knocked and a tinkling female voice ask me, "What is life after death?"

_What_?! I thought worriedly_. Life after death? What does that even mean? Like Heaven. What does the question even mean. Does it want me to explain what life after death is or give an example? Or both_?

My brain buzzed. I felt answers coming like ping-pong balls across my head, and i got confused to what i was supposed to answer.

Edmond sighed exasperatedly. "Well you're really the genius" he muttered.

Then louder he said to the doorknob, "How are we supposed to know? We've never died, have we?"

"What?!" I said, sure we had just blown our chance, "He didn't mean that! That was a stup--"

"That is correct," said the doorknob before the door swung open

Edmond opened his mouth to say something. I cut him off.

"Think about your life before you say_ anything_." I said warningly. He smiked at me.

**A/N: I apologize for the spelling errors, I tried to get all of them but I'm sorry if I missed any. Eh and Knickers continues... **


	6. The sky is falling! The sky is falling!

Inside the Ravenclaw tower was surprisingly empty. Lucky us.

Haha, just kidding! Of course it wasn't empty you poor, poor fool. It was flipping seven p.m. _Everybody_ was there. We couldn't have picked a less opportune moment. There were Ravenclaw-ians (?) draped over the deep blue and mustardy yellow seats everywhere. There was quite a bundle of people sitting beside a fireplace in the far left corner of the room and even more bunched up at the two writing desks along the closer wall just before two doors which undoubtedly led to the dormitories.

When walked in, however, not a single head turned.

I sniffed the air. The smell of ink, fresh parchment, and nerd hit me in an overwhelming blast. I teetered a bit and gave a small cough. When Edmond offered me his hand I put on a brave face and said, "I'll be okay. My country needs me...I will fight!"

Edmond looked slightly bemused but continued. I practiced my Scott Annikins limp a few times before wobbling casually over to one of the doors by the desks, Emdond and Pheobe close behind me.

Just as I was about to reach for the door handle, a screech that I can only say was quite similar to Mary Murphy's cut through the air like a butter knife through—who woulda guessed it—butter. I nursed my poor ears delicately and was almost instantly knocked over by a red feathery flamingo-ish _thing_.

"SCCCCCCCCCCOOOOOOOOOTTTTTT!!" squealed the mangled flamingo.

I tried to move but found I was restricted by bony things wrapped in flesh and feathers. I believe they could have been the flamingo's arms but it's all still a blur...

"I got the part I got the part! I'm gunna be SHARPAAAAAAAAAYY! Can you believe it?! This is going to be my big shot! I mean, a main role in Magical Boarding School Musical—the agents will be knocking down my door any minute! Oh Scott, I love you!"and to my great dismay she planted her large duck-like flamingo lips on my cheek.

A blood curdling scream shocked the air. It kept going on and on and on. My throat was getting raw and I couldn't understand why. After a couple more minutes I realized it was because I was the one screaming. I promptly stopped. I brushed myself off, pushing the flamingo-ish thingy away from me in disgust.

"I'm so happy for you, lezzie," I said and walked swiftly up the dormitory stairs.

Echoing sounds came up behind me alerting me that Edmond and Pheobe were following. There was a sudden punding of adrenaline. I was excited. I rushed past the dormitory doors, searching for the right one, the one that would please me most. Past the first years, seconds years and third years doors. At th fourth years I felt a mounting bubbly feeling inside me. I was like a shaken can of pop ready to explode, I was so excited. It seemed I hadn't done this in a long time. I truly do love messing around with authority figures, going against their ways without being caught. It makes me feel more secure, more balanced. I don't know why, but when I'm not causing mischief, I feel completely lost. Off balance.

The fifth years boys dormitories loomed in front of us. A golden plaque on the door read: _Scott Annikins, Roger Williamson, Fabian Crest_. I almost jumped for joy. My fingers were tingling. _This is it!_

I opened the door. I screamed and shut the door.

"My eyes! My eyes! I'm blinded! I'll never see the light of day again! My eyes! Please, Merlin, God, Buddha, whoever is out there—Save me!"

I was screaming and bumping around, hands over my eyes. Inside I heard similar sounds. I could hear muffled yells and grunts of, "Who the flippin 'ell?!...Scared the living day lights out of me!...Saw my arse!...What happened to knocking in this bloody country? Bloody 'ell!"

Finally somebody emerged from the door.

"Okay buddy," I began yelling, "You have some _'splainin_ to do! First of all, do you know you can be arrested for being in the nude in front of innocent civilians? I COUNT MYSELF AS AN INNOENT CIVILIAN! It's still early in the evening and I haven't had dinner yet! Now you've completely ruined my appetite? What is this? Amateur hour? Go shoot yourself! Just go shoot yourself! Actually steal a muggle weapon and shoot yourself! And then after that maybe you could get advice from them on how to _not_ be walking around in the day in your freaking natural outfit!"

"Scott, what the hell are you on about?" Asked the dark latino boy in front of me, who was a duplicate of Pheobe. He wasn't wearing a shirt and he was extremely scrawny. He had at least had the decency—no, not even that—the barest sliver of common sense!—to put on a pair of old grey sweatpants.

"What am I on about? What am _I_ on about? YOU M—"

Pheobe cut me off from behind. "You know, you look an awful lot like me," she said to Fabian.

"What the 'ell?" he said. He shook his head a few times, trying to wash off the confusitosity (I know that's not a real word, just bare with me. It sounds cool).

"Roger," he pleaded to Edmond, "Please help me out here, mate. I have no clue what's going on."

"Alright," Edmond drawled, "To understand, all you have to do is go back in the dorm, grab Scott's Pixies and bring them out to him. That's all he's been trying to say all along. He's just a slight bit drunk. He was celebrating. You know his girlfriend whatsherface got into that freaky play thing that she's been deafening us with all this week."

Fabian nodded his head vaguely. "Oh...alright...that...makes...uh...sense?" he said slowly, thinking about each individual word. "I'll be right back."

"Am I a genius or am I a genius?" Edmond asked smugly.

"I never thought it was possible for a human being to be so...stupid. It just never occurred to me. Here at Hogwarts, there are just endless possibilities...!" I said.

"Uh-oh. She's got that freakish mishcevious twinkle in her eye. I'm frightened," Said Pheobe.

"Tee Hee Hee!"

/\\\\\\

Fabian brought the Cornish pixies out to Scott Annikin's' awaiting arms and was surprised to see that his friend's hair was growing longer by the second. I grabbed the cage of approximately 20 adult pixies and 5 newborns. We sprinted down the stairs, desperately covering our hair and in my and Pheobe's case some certain un-boyish parts that people were bound to notice. We ran through the common room, me shoving away a simpering and leechy flamingo. Edmond stumbled a bit, his pants getting tighter and tighter on him. He regained balance and continued running with us.

"I feel like the incredible hulk!" he said as a few buttons on his shirt popped off.

We burst out of the Ravenclaw tower and jumped three stairs at a time down the enchanted staircases. We were breathing hard and stumbling everywhere, me especially. The pixies were not that easy to carry, even with Pheobe holding up the other side.

After a while Edmond screamed, "Oh screw it all!" he whipped out his wand. "Accio Brooms!

The silence was so freaking loud at that moment. "Gods, we need some fast pumpy music right now," I commented. "Amber Pacific or Hawk Nelson. Drums and fasty fasty stuff." My hands were all fidgety following the drum beats from Poetically Pathetic by Amber Pacific.

"Whoa calm down musically obsessed child. Just calm down."

"Aaa! I am so pumped right now!" I continued my crazy air drum solo, thrashing my head as it got to the climax of the song.

Edmond put his hand to his head. Pheobe took a hasty step away from me. "I don't know this person." She said to random passersby.

Just that moment our brooms came whistling down the hallway towards. Without hesitation I jumped on mine and Pheobe on hers, Edmond Putting the cage safely between us and jumping on his. We moved high in the corridors hoping no one would notice us and creeping along silently stealthily in the high banisters.

We got to the dungeons and we all hopped off to quickly change clothes. We stashed our brooms back to where they belonged and began inching our way closer to the great hall. When we were close enough we crept behind a secret door pretending to be a wall. We ended up in a small corridorish/hallway thing in between. It was cold and dark, lit with one single torch in a bracket. At the end of the hall was a simple tapestry to cover us. We crept right up to the tapestry, holding up a small unnoticeable corner at the edge. We lowered the cage door down, prodding the pixies out. They needed no further 

encouragement. They swarmed out to the unsuspecting innocents meandering in the great hall. They fly up and attacked any food left on the tables, toppling over the benches and pulling on peoples' hair. Girls screamed as skirts were flipped and make-up was smeared. People were get wedgies and wet willies left right and center. I shrill scream rang through the hall and I watched with great amusement as McGonagall got what was probably her first noogie, screwing up her stick straight each-hair-has-a-place bun. My suspicions that she used super-glue to keep it that way were shattered.

_**Boom**_**! **

"there goes the silverware," Pheobe pointed.

_**Crash!**_

"And the chandelier," said Edmond.

_**KA-BANG!!**_

"And a bomb," I commented.

There was a loud cackling and the sound of many wings whirring. Doors flew open and there were more crashing sounds as the huge doors crashed against the wall. Quieter and quieter and quieter, we could still hear the pixies as they ran torment through the castle. Up and up and up. Screams, glass breaking, ripping and tearing sounds.

And then the sounds couldn't reach us anymore. We waited for what seemed like forever in the cutting silence.

"Well that was scary," Pheobe said when we were safe.

_**BAAAAANNG!**_

The tapestry ripped out of the wall with the force of what we witnessed in front of us. Before us lay the remains of the enchanted ceiling, scattered across the great hall. We simultaneously looked up.

"It doesn't look any different," Edmond barely got the chance to say before a crazy mess of a thing in a cloak and tattered hat was rearing at us. There was make-up streaks down her face and her granny panties were bunched up and limp around her waist.

"_You three!"_ she shrieked and began hysterical sobs.

"No, _that_ was scary," I whispered to Pheobe.

* * *

**A/N: I hope that you enjoyed that. And maybe you understand slightly that Eddy isn't actually the prankster her and her father like to build themselves up in their minds. She just has her fun with the small things and watches as they turn into catastrophes. Who doesn't? **


	7. There's no death to the ocean

**A/N: Alright random collective audience, I would like to present to you, the one you've all been waiting for. The mysterious, the outlandish, the influential and most likely the most super-tra-mazing imaginary person that is not a cartoon character (in his own words, not mine) I give you...**

**Leo Dicaprio!**

**Correction; I give you... Eel!**

* * *

McGonagall screamed and screamed at me for what felt like hours. She said I was worse than Fred and George Weasley, then Sirius and James, than the whole DA including Ron and Hermione Weasley and Harry Potter. Even worse than Hagrid and his pets. She gave me a history of magic lecture on how long that enchanted ceiling had been there and everything. And then she said I had detention for the rest of the year.

And that's how I ended up here, in the great hall sending enchantments left right and center, fixing the enchanted ceiling with my two compadres in crime, Pheobe and Edmond. I was so disappointed. As Mc-G-G had loomed over me raving and roaring I had thought for sure she would expel me. I really, really did. I thought I would go back to Juny Wreck. To Eel and Jude and Lexa. Everything would be alright again. But it wasn't. Now I was stuck here, trying n vain to fit the pieces of the ceiling together like a puzzle piece. And when I wasn't doing that, I was scrubbing the enchanted staircases from the wreckage that the pixies caused and when I wasn't there, I was with Scott Annikins in the library trying to find out how to enchant the enchanted ceiling again (that was his punishment for breeding Cornish pixies in the first place). I actually asked him why he bread the pixies.

"Nuthin betta ta do roun' 'ere I gis," he said shrugging. I also asked him why he faked a limp. He smirked at me.

"The ladies luurve a man wif a severe broom injury," he'd said.

"Loser," I'd said.

The days got longer and longer as the work became harder and harder. I found it difficult to concentrate on one thing or another. I was just always wishing, always missing. Everything was getting so whirlwindy and scary and boring and weird. I was happy the next week when, while sitting alone in my bed, listening to some The Summer Obsession on my iPod , trying to block out sounds of the ball (that I was not aloud to go to!) that were wafting through the ceiling, I got a call from Eel on my cell.

"Hey Eddy," he said.

"Eel! Okay, you don't know how happy I am to hear from you! I've missed you Jude, I really have," I said.

I could practically hear him blushing over the phone. Jude isn't a very sentimental guy, if you catch my drift. "Yeah...I hope you don't expect me to say that back."

I laughed. "No, it's okay with me. But you're thinking it. I can tell."

"So what's goin on at the freak school?" he asked.

"Argh! I let some Cornish pixies loose on the school and they collapsed this huge ceiling that they enchanted to look like the sky. It's ridiculous! But it's been around since the school was started back in the stone age. I was totally hoping they would expel me. But instead they've sentenced me to a year of torture!" I complained on and on to Jude about the unfairnosity of my situation. He would quip in with something deep and smart every once n a while. "There is no death to the ocean...keep swimming," , 

"When life gives you lemons, make grape juice. Then watch everybody wonder how you did it." And I just kept on my ranting. There was nothing else I could do about my situation except complain.

Finally, when I took a breath for air, Eel exploded.

"You can spend minutes, hours, days, weeks, or even months over-analyzing a situation; trying to put the pieces together, justifying what could've, would've happened—or you can just leave the pieces on the floor and move the fuck on! So tell me, are you going to sit hear crying over spilt soup? Or are you going to make grape juice? Of course things are going to get hard, that is the way which is life. It is how you deal with the hard that determines your fate. Will you wallow in your own self pity and let people like Mc-G-G-whatsherface and some old guys who made a school walk all over you? People like your Dad and other pompous authority figures? That goes against everything you stand for! When the going gets tough, Eddy Jones gets in the tough's face and let's 'em have it! You never take anything standing down. And, really, Eddy, I am surprised that you are still at that school. You, out of anyone I know, would've devised an evil, scheming, manipulative and totally genius plan to get yourself out, quickly and easily, subtly causing chaos in your wake. And, if you think about it, that is the way of all teens! Should we stand by and let the stuffy people do as they please? Or do we rebel and create our own way of life? It is our right, no—our duty as teens to rebel against all that has any sort of logic. ARE YOU WITH ME?!"

Silence...

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

"Yeah," I said, barely audible, "I'm with you."

We hung up and I lay back in my bed thinking about everything he'd said. Was I really losing myself lately? Had I been fooling myself that I was a rebel—a prankster? Was I really the non-conformist I believed I was?

Well, I reasoned with myself, if I have to ask, what does that tell me?

Yes, yes I have not been being the non-conformist I thought I was. I can't just let people walk all over me. That is not the way of Eddy! If I had even been being Eddy, then I wouldn't have come to England at all! I have been out of my extremely genius mind. And...

And then what? I realize these things now, I realize that I haven't been living up to even my own standards. But now what? What do I do? How do I right this wrong? What can be Eddy enough to undo this strange English conformist Eddy wannabe?

And then it hit me.

I got out of bed and ran down the stairs into the Slytherin common room. It was one o'clock in the morning and there were only two people left, entangled together on a couch near the fire. As I got closer I noticed Pheobe's long strands of neon-green hair, flashing slightly in the flickering fire-light.

I smirked, remembering Pheobe's 'kind-of someone'. It doesn't look like 'kind-of' to me.

I stood on my tip-toes trying to get a glimpse of the person she was sucking-face with.

Oh My God.

_**OH MY GOD**_

I covered my mouth and dashed back up the stairs, barely closing the door before hurling all over the floor.


	8. This moment is brought to you by

My head was pounding. I could hear my heart zooming around through my brain. _B-bump, b-bump, b-bump_. My mouth tasted nasty and my throat was raw. I wiped the sand out of my eyes with aching limbs. My neck had a crick in it and my clothes were all ruffled.

"_Who are you?"_

I stretched my arms out a long way above my head, letting out a long yawn with them. I felt like you'd think cartoon characters do after they pull themselves from pancake shapes off the ground. All bent out of shape and stretched. Sadly, not being a cartoon myself, I couldn't just _pop!_ back into shape. I was instantly jealous of While E Coyote. Damn him.

"_So why are you here?"_

I vaguely noted that I was wearing the same clothes from yesterday. Bright yellow arm warmers, purple leggings with the Barney logo at the back of my knee, my poor boy cap, my school uniform on top and a pair of mother-of-pear ballet slippers with a snake skin pattern on them.

"_I'm Pheobe if anybody gives a shit."_

I had slept on the floor. Why had I slept on the floor? Was I insane? Out of all the uncomfortable places to sleep why did I pick the floor? What was the purpose of such an act? The slytherin girls' dormitory floor was politely covered with a small green rug that at one point might have actually been 1mm thick but over the decades has been worn down the equivalent of a piece of paper. A well-used piece of paper. And, my body, which is useless unless my mind is around to be telling it what to do, thought it would be nice to fall asleep in the farthest corner in the room, nowhere near the paper-thin rug. Thanks, self.

"_So...when's the running and screaming going to start?"_

My hair was a mess. I couldn't barely run one hand through it without it getting caught. I was concerned for a moment, but then I remembered my hat and I just tugged it lower. My head beat a little as I moved around more and more. It seemed to protest movement. It hurt quite a bit. And I still couldn't remember why I'd slept on the floor...

"_I'm going to change now."_

Actually I couldn't remember coming up to my room last night...

"_I'm going to take off my clothes and change into these new ones."_

I couldn't remember coming into the common room at all last night. I suppose I must have at some point seeing as I'm here now...

"_Oh! Sorry. It's just Pheobe and I are brother and sister and we're not used to that."_

The last thing I could remember was saying hello to Albus when I passed him in the hall on my way down to the dungeons. I remember it had been weird seeing him in that corridor. Hufflepuffs usually didn't linger too close to Slytherin territory. The least to say it wasn't very wise.

"_...brother and sister..."_

What had happened last night? Why couldn't I remember a thing? And where was everybody? I looked around the room. It was completely empty. I remembered, however distantly, that last night there had been a sort of ball going on in the great hall. I was upset because I had wanted to go. Me and Pheobe were going to wear Scream masks and spike the pumpkin juice for fun. Had I ended up going in the end anyways? Had Pheobe spiked _my_ pumkin juice? Was I drunk? Had I been drunk? How long was I drunk? Why doesn't this feel exactly like a hang over?

"_...poor thing, hope she survives..."_

Am I missing something? I have this acute sense that I am missing something. Something catastrological happened last night. I didn't say astrological, or catastrophic, I said catastrological. It was so big it deserved another word. I have this awareness that something big happened. I can feel it. Right to my toes. Now why can't I _think_ it. Argh! I feel like my brain is wet cement and I'm trying so hard to swim through it and get the information I need but the harder I try and the longer I think, the harder the cement gets. I just can't..._function_.

"_you're straight, right?"_

I sniffed the air carelessly. It was stale. And putrid. The smell almost knocked me out and I quickly pulled my shirt up to cover my nose. _Ugh!_ My shirt smelled too. I looked down. Well isn't that an odd stain. It looks almost like...

"_I'm even kind of seeing a guy right now. Kinda.But it's under wraps. You know, for my _reputation_."_

Why did I throw up? And what happened to my aiming capabilities? Why had I gone and thrown up all down the front of my shirt.

_Pheobe_

"Scrugigloo" I mumbled. My lamp turned into a chipmunk that was foaming at the mouth. Using amazing rodent acrobatics, he flipped out the door that was swinging open near to my head. After several other failed attempts I finally spit out "_Scorgio!"_ and had the room cleaned and smelling like lavenders.

_Edmond_

I sloppily got to my feet, teetering precariously over the flat solid ground. I put my hand to my head. "I need some ibuprofen," I said aloud.

Then I screamed.

In the corner of the dorm room was a hazy grey figure, tapping his ghostly fingers on the edge of my bed. In his hands were wispy grey cards. As soon as I screamed, though, the figure disappeared.

"Oh bloody just kill me then!" I said to myself trying to put a stop to my wildly beating heart. What the _hell_ was _that_?!

* * *

"WHAT?!"

"You heard me the first time, Ms. Jones. You are suspended from Quidditch playing," said Mc-G-G

"Are you _insane_? No, honestly, are you stable? My Dad's a healer, he can get you some help—"

"You will not speak to me that way, Ms. Jones. I don't think you are aware of who is the professor here and who is the student. And it's not like you didn't know this was coming," she said like we were both in on something.

It was a week before Slytherin's big game against Griffindor. The quidditch team was really shaping up and I was ready to play. It was killing me not to play. And bada-boom bada-bing! Aluva sudden Mc-G-G pulls this one out of her ass! Because apparently it's part of my punishment. All I did was break the roof! And some other things but mainly it was just the roof. That's no big deal! Roof's are replaceable. The dream and love for quidditch is not. It is an unquenchable thirst. It is a raw bloody emotion ripping through your soul calling out for fresh quidditch meat and the feel as your bat hits something solid and hard causing it to knock people to their inevitable pain and suffering. Quidditch is the haunting of the incapacitated—

Okay. I will stop now. I scared myself a little bit there too.

Anyways. If we could just switch to flash back mode. If you notice your mental image is fuzzy at the corners that's because it is a flash-back. Thank-you, that is all.

It all started on a beautiful autumn day. The sun was shining. The birds were out collecting berries and nuts and pooping on things. Life was wonderful and well for all of earth's creatures. And there was little Eddy Jones who was playing a fine scrimmage with her team mates. She dived and swirled and beat away at people's head with her bat and bludger. All was well with the world.

Suddenly Eddy's head snaps to and she sees a smoky figure standing on her goalpost, holding a deck of cards. This is not the first time she's seen him but the shock sent her flying into Scorpius. He ruins the pleasant atmosphere by using some unpleasant choice words very loudly as they tumbled towards the ground, Scorpius' arms scrabbling at the sky desperately, Eddy's wrapped around her head as if she had a head-ache, her eyes screwed tight.

A few hours later as she opened her blurry eyes in the hospital wing next to Scorpius she came face to face with a crazed Mc-G-G. Well, Mc-G-G was actually quite calm, but she always looked slightly crazed.

Mc-G-G explained with that calm crazed voice of hers that Eddy shouldn't have been on the quidditch pitch at all and the whole incident had been entirely her fault. She shouldn't have been on the quidditch pitch at all because she had been suspended from quidditch. And this takes us conveniently back to the present.

Welcome to the present-ent-ent-ent.

"As well, for continueing with quidditch practices when I so specifically told you that you were suspended from such an activity, and for being so careless and sending poor Scorpius here on his head, you will be doing and hours extra detention work every night for the next week. That is, of course, on top of the detentions you already have."

As Mc-G-G was saying this in an oh so Mc-G-G way I was calling her mean names in my head. And then I sent her into a cage surrounded by flying sharks. And there was goo. Lots of smelly goo coming from the sky and landing directly on Mc-G-G's ugly, uptight, stuffy, pasty, scary lookin' and wanna-be-intimidating face.

"Do you understand Ms. Jones?" Mc-G-G asked, all proper and stuffed. Like a parrot. A stuffed parrot. Dance little parrot, dance!

"Yes," I said.

"Yes, ma'am," Mc-G-G corrected.

"Whatever suits your fancy but I go by Eddy," I said. Instead of reprimanding me, like I expected, she smiled. That is just wiggidy-wiggidy-wack.

She saw the look on my face and just raised an eyebrow slightly over her old-lady grin. "You just remind me of someone I know," she said.

And with thqt, she mercifully left my sight. I glanced over at Scorpius' sleeping, bandaged form and sighed, thinking of the day past. I had seen the 'ghost' three times already that day. It was scaring me to the point of no return. I had this nagging feeling like when you knowthe name of something but you just can't say it. Like that. I knew what the 'ghost' was. I knew everything. I just couldn't understand it or put it together. It was the same with the night before. I knew what happened. I just cpouldn't put it together. All I knew was that I was never, ever talking to Pheobe or Edmond again. Every time I saw them I wanted to hurl. They kept trying to talk to me, and I had to keep running and hiding and dodging them. Something was terribly wrong. I don't know what, but something is just...wrong.

* * *

"Well, one day I was born, and one day I'll die. I just hope something good happens in the middle."

I laughed. Scorpius was sitting looking sickly over some soup he didn't think he could keep down. He would be out of the hospital in a days' timebut madame pomfrey was certain he'd caught the flu somewhere during his stay. It wasn't natural for a wizard to be this sick from the flu though. He was acting very strange.

I'd been let out of the hospital wing in the morning but promised to stay with Scorpius for a little while. But as my tummy rumbled on and the hospital food continued to make me feel squirmish, I was thinking it might be time to say good-bye.

"What about you're life story?" Scorpius asked.

I smiled. "Mines the same as yours, but in the middle there is a lot more coolness. Where yours is just two crackers mine is an Oreo."

"Oh yeah?" he asked, smirking.

"Yeah," I giggled. Just then my stomach voiced it's complaints. It was loud enough for Scorpius to turn his head and look questioningly at me.

He quirked an eyebrow.

"Hey, girl's gotta eat," I said with conviction.

"Well I'll be seeing you then. Don't forget to leave a tip for me," he said.

"No, I'm alright." I didn't know whether I was talking about the tip or seeing him again. The truth to it was that Scorpius wasn't a bad guy. The other truth to it was that I didn't like being close to him.

I left the hospital wing and was heading to my dorm, but then I thought better of it. There were certain people I didn't want to see. So I made my way to the kitchens, which I knew would be good for a treat this late.

I was skipping and whistling happily down the halls like in the movies, acting all hum-dee-ha rah-rah-rah girlish. And then the world exploded and little happy faced pink dolls with little pully strings attached to their backs erupted into existence saying "We love life hee hee hee, we love life!"

Of course not! What planet do you live on? Merlin! It's like walking talking idiots galore! What _actually_ happened (as you seem so keen to find out what I cleverly disguised as sugar-happy madness) was that I was slouching along hating my life and wishing doom upon the world and hospital food when I oh so conveniently bumped into something tall and tall. And a bit more tall. And yes, I did just say bumped into something. The whole big cliché of girl bumping into guy in hallway and falling desperately in love has just been passed on to me. Accept that I kept my balance. And then I hit Albus and told him to watch where he was going.

"Hey hey," he said holding out his palms in surrender, "it was you who bumped into me. Don't hit me." Then he muttered more quietly to himself "so _vicious_."

"Hey hey yourself. You're the one who keeps incessantly calling me Shorty," it's true, he did, "You are a giant, you could have seen me coming if I was two corridors away. I, on the other hand, was slouching pondering how to kill the world with a freaking poor-boy cap on. Who is at fault here _now_ Mr. Big-shot...Big Guy!"

"Cool it all Shorty, such a little spaz all the time. So snappy," he said. We were now walking in the same direction. I don't know why seeing as a minute ago he was walking the other direction (this is how we collided, see we were both going in separate directions...) but the craving for good food was overpowering and this fact became insignificant.

"Hey, it's not my fault you're incompetent. I'm just keeping you on your toes," I replied cheerily.

He narrowed his eyes at me. "Well, it's not my fault that I'm friend with a girl on permanent PMS mode. I just happen to attract all the freaks."

I narrowed my eyes back at him. "Touché."

He put his hands in his pockets casually and lolled along slowly beside me. It was annoying because I was speed-walking, pumping my feet three times to keep up with his each ginormous step. "So I heard you got suspended from quidditch," he threw in offhandedly.

I growled and spat out a few curse words about Mc-G-G and her --THIS MOMENT HAS BEEN BROUGHT TO YOU BY DANCING SQUIRRELS--.

"I see," said Albus with interest. "Well I got you something, you know as celebration that my biggest threat has been taken out of the running."

_--THIS_ MOMENT HAS BEEN BROUGHT TO YOU BY FRIED EGGS AND BACON IN BED, BUT NOT WITH EACH-OTHER, FOR LIKE BED-IN-BREAKFAST...HMM...I WONDER WHAT ELSE I CAN SAY IN THIS SENTENCE BEFORE SHE STOPS SWEARING...LA...LA-LA-LA...LA-DE-LA--OOO! SHE JUST HIT HIM REALLY HARD! RIGHT, BACK TO THE STORY--

I may have slipped and accidently hit Albus on the head. With my fist. And called him rude names from the urban dictionary. But I was dignified in my attack. He was pissing me off. And I was hungry. Also, I had just lost quidditch and my freedom in one go. And my memory too apparently. And my friendship with Pheobe and Edmond (may they be cursed).

Albus told me my suprise was waiting for me in my room. I told him to shove it up his ass. Then I told him if he didn't move away from the entrance to the kitchens I would kill him and use canabilism to satisfy my hunger. He looked frightened. I was pleased.

_MMMMMM...fooooooood._

And then the ghost with the card showed up again. Well isn't it nice to see him again!

* * *

A/N: If any of that was deranged or disturbing or confusing to you, it's okay. Eddy's mind is complex and unsensitve to other people who might be inside of it. She formerly apologizes. Well she let me formerly apologize on her behalf. Which is nearly as good if not better.


	9. the magical chapter 9!

A/N: Hey

Doesn't it piss you off when you think it's a new chapter and it's just a note from the author? Yes, I know, and I am sorry.

I know it's been a long time since I updated, but I have massive writers block. I was going one way with this story and then I was going another and then I couldn't really decide. I think I'm going to have to take it down soon because I can't see it going anywhere.

Thanks and lots of...i don't know hugs, roses, love? Whichever one you want,

aChickNamedHamlet


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